Slaves of Mercury

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Slaves of Mercury Page 11

by Nathan Schachner


  CHAPTER XI

  _Driven from Cover_

  Far overhead, Hilary climbed swiftly. He realised the seriousness oftheir situation. Let that Mercutian flash his message to Headquartersand there would be a swarm of fliers upon them within an hour's time.They would be caught like rats in a trap, without a chance for theirlives.

  He gritted his teeth and swung himself up the faster. He turned thebend. There was the dark sky above, faintly spangled with stars. Theflier was not in sight. Hilary stifled an imprecation. If he had takenoff, they were doomed.

  He moved more cautiously now, stepping gingerly from rung to rung upthe swaying ladder. The cleft widened; he was near the top. He paused.There was not the slightest sound. But Hilary was taking no chances.

  With infinite slowness he raised his head over the matted underbrushthat masked the entrance. For the moment he could see nothing in thepitchy blackness. Then a dim shape loomed to one side. From within itthere came a tiny hum, intermittent, almost inaudible.

  Hilary knew what that was: a transmitter. Even then the fatal messagewas winging through the ether. He did not hesitate. He lofted to theground with one quick heave, steadied on his swaying feet as theautomatic flashed into his hand.

  "Throw up your hands, Mercutian," he shouted at the dimly-perceivedbulk. "I have you covered." He tensed, straining his ears for anymovement that might locate the hidden foe.

  The tiny humming ceased abruptly. There was painful silence.

  "Don't try--" Hilary commenced. He stopped, swerved his body suddenlyto one side. A red glow had warned him. The hurtling ray scorched pasthim with a crackling blaze. Hilary was off balance, teetered, and wentdown with a crash into the thorny underbrush, his automatic explodinginto sharp flame.

  * * * * *

  A hoarse guttural laugh came from the flier. "Got you that time, Earthdog," the invisible Mercutian taunted. There was silence. Another beltcrashed from the ship, heaved the ground under its impact. Another andanother. Still no break in the silence, no cry.

  The Mercutian muttered to himself: "The dog is dead, all right." Hepeered out cautiously. The underbrush was black, sullenly quiet. Greatswaths showed where the rays had swept the Earth. With a hoarsechuckle the grotesque giant climbed over the side of his ship. Asearch beam swung in his hand. He was in deep shadow. He swung thebeam in a short arc. There was nothing, only matted vegetation. Therewas one thick thorny bush he noted, however, extending its bulk behindthe bow of the ship. He stepped out a bit, away from the flier'sshadow, and swung his beam directly at it. The invisible ray piercedthrough the interlacing twigs with ease. It picked out a prone figure,lying with arm extended.

  The Mercutian chuckled again, but the chuckle changed almostimmediately to a throaty cry of alarm. With a swiftness that wentincongruously with his awkward bulk, his free arm dropped for his handray. There was a sharp burst of flame, a staccato bark. The Mercutianstaggered, swayed with sullen pain-widened eyes, and pitched headlongforward.

  * * * * *

  The prone figure in the bush leaped up, ran for him. The Mercutian wasdead, drilled through the heart. Hilary sheathed his weapon grimly.His task was done. One thing, though. How much of the message had beentransmitted? He must know. He vaulted over the side of the flier,fumbled around until he found the receiving apparatus. Then he waited,dreading to hear the silence broken. A minute passed, two minutes, andHilary breathed a sigh of relief. The message had not gotten through.

  Then it came--a tiny sparking, an intermittent hum. Hilary's heartsank with hammering blows. He tried to read the signals, but they werein code, or in the Mercutian tongue, which was just as bad. It was notnecessary, though. Headquarters _had_ heard; they _knew_.

  Hilary did not waste an instant in vain regrets. Within an hour thegorge would be a vicious trap; he must get his men out at once. Whatthen he did not know, nor bother. There was the more immediateproblem.

  He went down the swinging ladder hand over hand, not pausing for therungs. Every instant was precious now. His hands scorched, but he didnot feel the pain.

  His flying body collided thudding with a heavy bulk beneath. There wasa grunt, the rope jerked from his hands, and two bodies fell cursing,entangled, to the ground. Luckily it was not far distant. He sprangto his feet, found Grim heaving his bulk up more slowly.

  "I was coming up after you," the giant growled. "You were gone toolong. That's the thanks I get."

  Hilary had no time for idle talk.

  "Attention, men," he snapped. "We leave at once. You have five minutesto get your arms, ammunition clips and rations, light marching order."

  Without a word they scattered alertly to their tasks. It was thediscipline of veterans.

  "You didn't get the Mercutian?" Grim was troubled.

  "I got him all right," answered his leader laconically, "but too late.His message had gone through."

  * * * * *

  Five minutes later to the dot, the camp was lined up, accouteredcomplete. They were silent, tense, but smartly erect. Hilary's flashglowed over them in the dark. Then he nodded approvingly.

  "Fine work, men. Up that ladder, one at a time," he said. "Each mancounts twenty slowly, one--two--three before he follows. Keep yourdistance, and move fast."

  The first man sprang to the ladder, went up swiftly. Twenty secondslater, the next man's foot was on the bottom rung. Up and up theywent, one after the other, each man counting off and climbing. Hilarywatched them anxiously.

  "Hope we make it," he muttered to Grim. "It'll take all of fortyminutes to evacuate, and the Mercutians may be on us by then."

  It was almost forty minutes to the dot when Hilary's head emerged fromthe cleft. He was the last man out. The men were lined up on a levelbit, nervous, apprehensive. In spite of the discipline, headsautomatically jerked upward, raked the sky for sign of the enemy.

  Where to now?--thought Hilary. There were no more hiding places asperfect as the one they had just left. They were forced into the open,easy prey for the first lynx-eyed Mercutian. Sooner or later, theywould be discovered, and then.... A last hopeless glance at themocking stars. Never had man yearned more for rain, oceans and oceansof it.

  * * * * *

  Hilary roused himself. Whatever of despair he felt did not appear inhis staccato orders.

  "We march at once, men," he said. "Scatter formation, five pacesbetween. At the signal, take nearest cover, and prepare for action.Forward--"

  "Too late." Grim's voice was flat, controlled.

  Hilary looked around sharply. "What do you mean?"

  "Look." Morgan's hand swept aloft. Through the darkling night, faintlyvisible in the feeble starlight--there was no moon--were drivingshapes, a full score of them converging upon the little band.

  One look was sufficient. Mercutian fliers hurrying in response totheir fellow's signal. There was no time, no chance to escape.

  "Very well, men." Hilary commanded, coldly calm. "Take cover. Do notfire until I give the order."

  There was instant scattering. The men dived for whatever poor bit ofprotection they could find: jutting rocks, tree trunks, thin thornybushes even.

  Grim and Hilary crouched together behind a great boulder.

  "How many pistols are there in the crowd?" Hilary asked quietly.

  "Not many. Outside of your automatic and my dynol pistol, there aretwo other dynols and not more than a dozen automatics. If only we hadthe submachine gun with us, but Wat took it along, and he's gone."

  "Not much chance, I'm afraid," said Hilary; "but we'll fight it out.Here they come."

  The two men crouched lower. All about them was silence; not even aleaf stirred in the heavy breathlessness.

  * * * * *

  The driving fliers were easily visible now. Ominous hurtlingprojectiles, coming to crush out the last vestige of revolt on theconquered planet. On they came, purposefully, directly, know
ing theirway; a full score, converging in a scream of wind against their bowsas they dropped straight for the hidden gorge.

  It seemed to the hidden watchers as though they would crash to Earthwith the speed of their swoop. But at one hundred feet aloft thefliers braked their headlong flight, hovered motionlessly in echelonformation.

  A moment's breathless pause--to the hiding men it seemed eternity--andall the uneven terrain, rocks, trees, bushes, the soil itself, burstinto glowing white crystal clearness. The Mercutians had turned ontheir search beams.

  Hilary gazed clear through the rock behind which he crouched as thoughit were a transparency. All around him he saw the prone bodies of hismen, naked to the view of all and sundry.

  A hoarse derisive chuckle rasped from above. Hilary sprang to hisfeet; further attempt at concealment was useless. As he did so, theair seemed to split in two, there was a blinding rending crash. Notten feet from where he stood, the ground tossed in torture. A manscreamed--terribly. The first blow had been struck.

  Hilary burned with a cold consuming anger. "Up, men, and fire. Aimforward about three feet back of the prow." That was where the pilotwould be.

  A scattered burst of cheers answered him. On all sides, like crystalghosts, the Earthmen rose to their feet. They were fighting men.

  Hilary took careful aim at a flier almost directly overhead and fired.He could have sworn he hit it, but nothing happened. Grim's dynolpistol flamed redly nearby. The tracer pellet scorched upward,impacted, against the hull of a flier. There was a faint detonation,and the next instant the air was full of flying fragments.

  "Got that one," he said softly.

  * * * * *

  Hilary was conscious of a faint envy. His automatic seemed like aharmless popgun against that deadly weapon. But he drew another beadand fired again. With bated breath he awaited the result. Nothing.Hilary groaned, made as if to throw the useless gun away, when theflier he had aimed at wabbled, tried to right itself, and crashed in aswift erratic loop.

  By now the pitifully few weapons of the Earthmen were popping. Twomore of the enemy fliers hurtled to destruction. But as at a givensignal, the air above them seemed suddenly to flame destruction. Withthe noise of a thousand thunderbolts the massed rays struck.

  The groaning Earth tossed and heaved in billowing waves to escape itstorture. The trees were blazing pyres. It seemed impossible foranything that lives within that area to escape instant destruction.

  Hilary felt a wave of blinding heat envelop him, and he was thrownflat to the quaking ground. Frightful cries, screams of agony, came tohis dulled ears as from a great distance. He heaved himself upwearily, scorched, smoldering, but otherwise unhurt.

  * * * * *

  "Grim," he whispered through thick cracked lips. "Grim, where areyou?"

  "Here." Strange how tranquil he sounded. A scarecrow of a figure arosealmost at his right from a smoldering bush, a giant clothed in smokingrags. In the strange illumination of the search beams he seemed thewraith of a scarecrow.

  "Thank God you're alive," Hilary croaked. "The others...?"

  Figures were staggering up from the holocaust about them.

  Grim's practised eyes counted. "About fifty left," he said, "just onehalf."

  Hilary's voice rose suddenly, strongly. "Keep on firing, men." Onceagain his pistol barked defiance.

  A faint, ragged cheer answered him. A few guns flamed; there were onlya handful left.

  "God!" someone cried.

  The massed ships above were gleaming faintly. Little shimmeringsparkles ran over the hulls. They were going to ray again. Hilary wentberserk, screamed strange oaths, fired again and again. Grim fired,more slowly. Two of the enemy ships left the formation, plungedheadlong. But the shimmering grew brighter. In seconds the terriblebolts would be loosed. It was the end. The Earthmen knew it. Theycould not survive a second raying.

  Grim shouted. Never before had Hilary heard him raise his voice tothat pitch. His great arm was upflung. "Look!" he screamed.

 

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